


Reflections and Reversals

by Plodder



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin Dad-akin Skywalker, But we're still pro-Jedi here, Fish out of Water, Good Dooku (Star Wars), Grandmaster Tano, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi Master Ahsoka Tano, Jedi Master Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Order Flipped, M/M, Masters may have more than one Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padawan Qui-Gon Jinn, Role Reversal, Which is always true, liberal use of profanity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:55:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29644023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plodder/pseuds/Plodder
Summary: Senior Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi is sent from his rather isolated and monastic temple on Dantooine to stay and train with a certain Jedi Master Anakin Skywalker and his Padawan Qui-Gon Jinn, assisted of course by the illustrious Grand Master Tano.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn & Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 25
Kudos: 78





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written this pairing before, but this idea came to me and I ran with it.

“Padawan, do you copy? Where are you?”

Qui-Gon Jinn made the choice to ignore his comm as he lay in a field of tall, sweet-smelling grass in the Temple gardens. He was hoping Coruscant’s sun and the abundance of the living Force would help burn off his hangover. He chewed thoughtfully on a blade of grass, briefly contemplating the history of advanced planetary warfare lecture he was missing. Caleb would catch him up anyway. The sun was warm, and he was oh so drowsy. There wasn’t any good reason to get up. His master would forgive him, like he always did.

“Qui-Gon, you little shit. If you don’t answer me I will somehow transcend space and time to throttle you.”

Ok, maybe his Master wouldn’t forgive him this time. “Yes, most wise and strong Master, how can I assist you?” he asked with mock sweetness. If his Master had wanted a well-behaved Padawan, he would have chosen someone else.

“Where in the nine Sith hells are you?”

“Meditating.”

“And my father was a bantha,” his Master snarked.

“That would explain some things. Are you back already?” Fuck he needed to clean up their quarters after the little get together he’d held last night. His Master probably wouldn’t appreciate the empty liquor bottles. His Master was pretty laid back about some things and prudish about others.

“Not yet, but we’ll have some words when I am. Did you pick him up?”

Oh kriff, there was something he was supposed to do today. He’d totally forgotten. He was supposed to retrieve some Padawan from the Dantooine Temple who was going to be staying with them and training with his Master and Master Nu. The padawan was some kind of archivist, and Qui was sure the guy was going to be quiet and boring. He hoped having this other Padawan around wouldn’t mess with his own routine too much.

“Um, I’m going there now.”

“How could you forget? You are a senior Padawan- I shouldn’t have to ask you twice! You were supposed to retrieve him this morning! He’s been waiting all day! He’s never been off his planet, and he’s probably terrified. How could you be so inconsiderate?”

Qui-Gon knew his Master’s anger usually just blew through like a passing thunderstorm, but he did feel a little remorse. “I’m sorry, Master. I lost track of time,” he said, jolting himself up to standing and brushing grass and leaves off his tunics. He ran a hand through his long hair, which wasn’t the cleanest. He’d have to shower later.

“Just go, Qui.” His Master muttered and ended the call.

Qui-Gon ran out to the docks and took the speeder that his Master had assigned to him. He made his way to the lower levels where the slowest and shittiest public transports arrived and departed, the ones taken by refugees and the penniless downtrodden and apparently backwater Padawans. He parked the speeder and walked around the station, looking for his charge.

Qui-Gon caught site of the foreign Padawan before he himself was noticed, which gave him a moment to study the guy. The Padawan was standing by a bench, searching the crowds, looking wide eyed and well and truly lost. He was short, or rather shorter than Qui, and a little on the skinny side of athletic. Pretty red-gold hair waved around the angles of his jaw and hung in his face a little until he tucked it behind his ear in a nervous gesture. The robes he was wearing were somehow ill-fitting and patched like they’d belonged to someone else, and he was clutching a tiny, weatherworn satchel, which was slightly endearing. His general appearance made Qui want to take proper care of him, like any other lost little soft creature.

His moment of study abruptly ceased when the Padawan turned and met Qui-Gon’s gaze. Qui waved, and the Padawan waved back with a quicksilver grin and a flash of dimples and blue-green eyes, but then seemed to remember proper decorum. His expression became serious, posture rigidly straight, eyes inscrutable, and he tucked his arms into the sleeves of his too big cloak, giving a polite bow.

_Oh no_ , Qui thought, _he’s not boring, he’s cute_. Little and feisty and adorable, like the tooka kits he’d taken in. This could be trouble.

“Please forgive me, Master Skywalker, I almost didn’t know it was you. I mean no disrespect, but you look young for a Jedi Master. I am Obi-Wan Kenobi, at your service,” he said with an unexpectedly snooty, very pronounced Core accent. Where had this dusty, threadbare creature learned to speak like that?

Qui-Gon laughed. That was a first. “I’m not Master Skywalker, I’m his Padawan Qui-Gon.”

Obi-Wan looked up and blushed vigorously, which was perfectly adorable. “Pardon me, Padawan Jinn. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said. Once his flush faded, he looked very pale under the faint freckles scattered across his cheeks. He lost his rigid posture and his shoulders sagged, just a little. Qui-Gon could sense just a hint of how exhausted, overwhelmed, and well, hungry this kid was, a feeling he shared right about now.

“Let’s get something to eat before we go back to the Temple.”

“Here, in Coruscant?” Obi-Wan said, looking around at the bustling masses with big eyes. His facial expressions kept varying from wide-eyed tooka kit to stoic Jedi decorum as if he couldn’t quite maintain a solid hold on how he thought he should be behaving.

“Well, not in Coronet City. Yeah, here. I’m hungry and we’re already out.”

“If you wish,” said Obi-Wan following behind him he dodged other beings to get to the speeder.

Obi-Wan hesitated before getting into the vehicle, clearly watching Qui-Gon first. He gave it the look someone would give a semi-tame rancor before gingerly getting in. As they took off, he gripped the seat handle with a white knuckled hand, face bloodless and pinched. He’d never been in a speeder before? This was an oddity.

Qui parked near Dex’s and led Obi-Wan into the diner. FLO noticed him and called for her boss. “DEX! YOU’VE GOT COMPANY!”

Qui watched as Obi-Wan’s eyes flitted around the place and he buried his hands in his sleeves, wrapping his arms around himself.

“Qui-Gon! You look hungry!” The big besalisk said, wrapping Qui in one of his customary hugs. “Who’s your friend?” Dex asked, giving Obi-Wan a once over while beaming.

“This is Obi-Wan. He’s come from the Temple on Dantooine.”

“I’m so happy to meet you, sir,” Obi-Wan said with a little bow, face composed but still so pale that Qui thought he’d pass out.

“You’re a polite one. Any friend of Qui-Gon’s is always welcome,” Dex said, patting Obi-Wan’s shoulder with one of his massive paws. Obi-Wan looked petrified but nodded respectfully.

Qui took his hand, which was cold and clammy, and lead Obi-Wan to sit at one of the booths toward the back. He was almost imperceptibly shaking.

“You ok?” Qui asked, kind of worried about him.

“I’m fine. It’s been a long week, is all,” Obi-Wan said, expression regaining it’s serenity.

“What’ll you two have?” FLO asked, tapping her stylus against her 'pad.

“I’ll have my usual,” Qui said, looking at Obi-Wan, who was intently studying the menu as if it held the galaxy’s secrets.

“I’ll have what he’s having,” Obi-Wan replied, setting the menu down with a distrusting look.

“Sure thing, little one,” the droid replied as she buzzed off.

“How old are you?” Qui-Gon asked. It was a little hard to tell just by looking at him. He could have been anywhere from thirteen to a baby-faced twenty.

“Nineteen,” Obi-Wan replied. “And you?”

“Eighteen,” Qui replied, surprised that he was the younger of the pair.

“Have you ever left Dantooine?” Qui-Gon asked innocently, knowing full well the answer.

“No, I have not had the pleasure. We don’t tend to travel,” Obi-Wan said. Qui knew that the Dantooine Temple was far more monastic in its practice. They mainly focused on archiving ancient Jedi traditions and living off the land.

“Why did you leave?”

“My Master did not feel that I was suited for life at our Temple. He thought I would be better served here. I am at the top of all my classes and in ‘saber training. No one there can match me, not even the Masters. My Master may have been able to once, but he’s too old now,”  
Obi-Wan said in a matter-of-fact tone without any hint of shame.

“Hmmm, I see. Aren’t Jedi supposed to be modest?” Qui asked, knowing full well that Obi-Wan was going to be fun to torment.

Obi-Wan’s pale face flushed again. “I’m not bragging, I’m simply stating the truth. I’m too skilled for my Temple,” he said firmly.

“You have top marks in all your classes?” Qui-Gon asked, trying to get him to flail a little. “What about advanced celestial navigation?” he asked, knowing that the little Jedi had never flown in his life.

“Indeed,” Obi-Wan said, steady blue gaze unwavering, mouth tight and prim.

_It will be wonderful to rile you up_ , Qui thought to himself. He was sure Obi-Wan would just bristle like an angry little tooka. _Oh kitten, we’re going to have fun_. “What’s your preferred ‘saber form?” Qui asked.

Obi-Wan thought for a little too long before answering. “Ataru.”

Qui gave him a slow, evil grin. “Well, you’re in luck because it’s mine as well.” He was going to wipe the floor with this adorable little brat and then maybe give him a good snog and run a hand through that pretty hair.

“Aren’t you rather large for Ataru?” Obi-Wan asked archly, raising a ginger brow.

Qui-Gon laughed. “I don’t have the traditional build, but I think you’ll find out that I can make it work.”

“We’ll have to see, won’t we,” Obi-Wan said, looking Qui dead in the eyes, voice slightly more tart.

With that, their food arrived, two large nerf burgers with sides of fried tubers and berry shakes. Qui watched in amusement as the prim and proper Obi-Wan picked up the burger, sniffed it delicately, took a tentative bite, then proceeded to inhale the thing even faster than his Master on a bad day. He tried not to giggle.

“You know that we can order more if you want? There’s plenty where that came from,” Qui said with a wry grin.

“Sorry,” Obi-Wan mumbled after he came up for air. “It’s been a while.”

“Wasn’t there food on your transport?” Qui asked.

“Once a day, and it was yesterday,” Obi-Wan said, then attacked the tuber wedges with gusto.

“Didn’t you bring anything with you?” Qui asked, now a little worried about this idiot.

“I did, but there was a family with children, and they had nothing. The children were crying. I could feel their pain, Qui-Gon,” he said, his lovely changeably blue eyes sad.

That was actually sweet, and terribly noble. Maybe he wouldn’t be too mean to Obi-Wan. “Well, you can have mine,” he said, pushing his wedges onto Obi-Wan’s plate.

“Thanks,” Obi-Wan said, with a quick smile, dimples flashing. He really was adorable. Qui felt himself flush a little.

Once they finished, Qui guided him back out to the speeder, which Obi-Wan still regarded with great, unguarded distrust. _Advanced celestial navigation_ , he thought, laughing to himself. _We’ll see._

As they were stuck in traffic, Qui’s comm sounded, nearly startling Obi-Wan out of the speeder.

“Why aren’t’ you back at the Temple? Did you take Obi-Wan anywhere unnatural?” his Master growled through his comm.

“Well, we were hungry and went to Dex’s.” Qui replied calmly.

“You weren’t supposed to take him to Dex’s! He’s supposed to go to the Halls for a check-up first and then report to the quartermaster!” His Master said, exasperated. He had probably made all his hair stand up on end.

“Ok, Ok, we’re on our way,” Qui replied, guiding them back to the Temple. As they approached, and he swung the speeder around towards the docks, he watched Obi-Wan stare at the ancient building, eyes wide with unguarded wonder. “This is where you live?” he asked, voice soft and small, as he watched throngs of Jedi coming and going down the unending steps flanked by massive statues of Jedi past.

“Yup. And now it’s where you live too,” Qui said, knowing that the days ahead would be anything but boring.


	2. Chapter 2

“Come on, let’s go round the front so you can get the full experience,” Qui-Gon said, guiding Obi-Wan towards a vast expanse of stairs which led to the most impressive structure he’d ever seen.

Obi-Wan followed a few steps behind him, trying to keep his eyes on Qui-Gon’s lanky back. If he lost Qui-Gon in the crowd, he wasn’t sure where his feet would take him. The city itself was overwhelming, the Force feel of millions of sentients going about their lives, feeling boredom and love and pain and birth and death and what came between was almost unbearable. He stood at the base of the stairs, frozen for a second. This was his new life. It was starting. He thought about his Master’s kind, wrinkled face, whispering words of encouragement. ‘Go on, little one’, he’d said. This isn’t the place for you here.’

“Are you coming?” Qui-Gon asked, turning to look at him with laughing navy blue eyes. Obi-Wan followed, but his legs were shorter, and he wanted to look and see. He was used to grasslands, dusty in the dry season and then lush with the rain. He was used to verdant forests and the comforting sounds of livestock in the barns and the wind whistling through the grass. Instead there was the murmur of the crowds, the cacophony of traffic, the rumbles of ships leaving orbit. Part of him wanted to take it all in and part of him wanted to find a dark, quite corner and cover his ears and hide. He hated feeling so lost, so out of his element. His usual confidence was draining away into the crowds.

“It’s a lot, isn’t it?” Qui-Gon asked, giving his hand an encouraging squeeze and slowing down his stride. He was entirely unexpected, so tall with mischievous eyes and messily braided hair, dressed in rumpled, grass-stained tunics, smelling not entirely unpleasantly of sweaty boy and tea and fresh cut greenery. He’d caught Obi-Wan totally off guard, which a small part of him liked, but the rest didn’t.

“I will get used to it soon enough. Where are you taking me?”

“Master said I’m supposed to take you to the Halls of Healing so they can check you over.”

“Is that really necessary?” Obi-Wan asked. He just wanted a respite from all the noise.

Qui-Gon shrugged. “I guess? That’s what Master said to do, and I’ve pissed him off enough for today, so you’re going.”

“What’s he like, your Master? Our Master, I guess?” Obi-Wan asked, as they finished the stairs and entered a vast atrium, filled with hundreds of Jedi.

“You’ll have to see for yourself. He’s hard to explain. I mean, he’s kind of an experience,” Qui-Gon said, waggling his brows.

“That sounds cryptic. And rather frightening.” This whole thing had been an experience. He wasn’t sure how many days like this he could handle.

“Don’t worry, he’s a good guy. He’s just… unique,” said Qui-Gon thoughtfully, his long strides leading Obi-Wan to some far reach of the massive building.

“And you aren’t?” Obi-Wan quipped.

“Oh I am too,” Qui-Gon said, throwing his hands up. “We both take some getting used to. Guess you didn’t know what you were getting into?”

“I fear that if I did, I would have stayed on Dantooine.”

“Too late now! You’re stuck with us. It’s the will of the Force,” Qui-Gon said with a wink. “Here’s where I drop you off. I’ll see you in a while.” He’d brought Obi-Wan to some odd, sterile, silent corner of the Temple.

“But where do I…” he asked no one in particular, seeing as Qui-Gon had bolted, leaving him in this odd place. Once he noticed he was alone, a strange sick feeling came over him. Without his escort, someone might think he was an interloper and make him leave the Temple. Or even worse, no one might want to train him once they saw what he was like. What would he do? He had no credits, no way to get back. And what if they didn’t want him back on Dantooine? What if they had found a convenient way to get rid of their most annoying apprentice?

Obi-Wan tried not to shiver. The Temple was so cold, and his frayed cloak wasn’t doing much to ward off the chill. He walked through a large set of double doors into a long, empty corridor, and was greeted by a young, blue woman, maybe his own age or a little younger. She had two blue lekku (a Twi’Lek!) and was dressed in pristine white robes.

“Are you Padawan Kenobi?” She asked, voice husky and serious, but her eyes were warm and kind.

“I am,” he said, bowing to her.

“I am Vokara Che, apprentice healer,” she said, beckoning to him to follow. “We have your records from your own Temple, but they seem quite incomplete? Are these really the only vaccines you have received?” She asked, leading him to a small room with a cot and cabinets full of supplies.

“I think so?”

“I’ll have to get Master Bril,” she said briskly, turning on her heal.

She returned with an older, violet Twi-lek, who read his records with a frown. “Yes, I see what you mean, Padawan. Will have to draw some blood and check a few things, Obi-Wan. You will need quite a few rounds of vaccines,” she said with an apologetic smile.

Obi-Wan allowed himself to be poked and prodded and stabbed in the arm and thigh more times than he could have imagined. At some point they left to do blood analysis and left him alone in the room. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to stay or go, so he did the logical thing and lay down on the cot and dozed. He hadn’t slept in days.

The transport had been loud and crowded. He’d had a few feet of space to sit in the crowded hull, surrounded by throngs of frightened refugees, disgruntled migrant workers, poor families and beings of a less than savory sort. He hadn’t dared to sleep. Here it was quiet, and the cot was soft. Obi-Wan was used to sleeping in a noisy communal bunk room with the other children and young adults, but he was too tired to stay awake any longer. When he slowly woke up some time later, he could hear beings talking outside his room, what sounded like a man and the senior healer.

“What exactly are they doing at the Dantooine Temple? That boy has had only a scant few of the mandatory vaccines, he has several intestinal parasites, and I suspect his nutrition has been quite spotty for most of his young life. Shouldn’t there be some standardization amongst how we care for our youth?” the healer asked.

Obi-Wan felt himself flush with embarrassment. He felt like the dirtiest, shabbiest, and apparently most infection-ridden backwater yokel to have set foot on this planet. This was a mistake. How had he ever thought that he would fit in here? That he would do well in such a foreign place? Why hadn’t his Master warned him what it would be like?

He sat up on the side of the bed, stood up, and tried to look out the door. He could see a tall man dressed in black, with wavy dark blond hair talking to the healer. “I’m sure they do their best, Nima.”

“We’ll have some work to do with him. I can’t treat everything and catch him up on his vaccinations in one night.”

“Can I take him back to our quarters? He looks worn out. I think he’s had enough,” the man asked.

“Yes. I’ll send you a timetable for when he needs to return. Isolate him if he seems ill. I don’t want him infecting half the Temple with something.”

Sick of being talked about and emotionally worn, Obi-Wan opened the door to join them. “I’m sorry, Masters, but we believe in living off what the land provides and what we can harvest. It is the simplest way for us to limit our planetary impact and resource use. Some years, the harvests are sparse. We don’t have the same access to medicines in the Outer Rim that you have here.”  
Part of him felt floridly embarrassed and wanted to do whatever he could to fit in, and part of him wanted to defend the place that raised him. His Master always chastised him for being too quick to leap to judgement. Oh, well. He was probably going to be sent back anyway.

“No one blames you, Obi-Wan,” the man said, giving the healer a pointed look. “We just want you to be healthy,” he said, then held out a hand towards Obi-Wan. “I’m Anakin Skywalker. I’m glad you’re here,” he said with a warm smile.

At first glance, he was an averagely handsome, fine-featured man in his thirties, tall and rangy, but not as tall as his padawan. How he felt in the Force was another matter entirely. Obi-Wan had never felt anything like it. His presence felt bold and vast and powerful with a hint of chaos, like a partially contained wildfire. He almost seemed to vibrate with Force energy. If every Master Jedi was like this, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he was in the right place.

“Been a long day, huh?” Master Skywalker asked him. Obi-Wan realized he was staring blatantly and that he hadn’t even greeted him back.

“That’s an understatement,” he heard himself mutter. He felt himself flush with shame and then tried to compose himself. He was getting sent back to Dantooine for certain. “Sorry Master. I’m so pleased to meet you,” he said, bowing half-heartedly.

Master Skywalker squeezed his shoulder, radiating reassurance. “It’s ok, kid. You’ve got the 1000-klick stare going on- trust me, I’ve been there. We’ll head back to our rooms and you can rest. We’ll figure everything out tomorrow.”

Relieved, Obi-Wan followed him through seemingly endless corridors, through massive chambers filled with vaulting, arched ceilings, lined with statues. Droids and staff and seemingly thousands of Jedi came and went, some silent, some talking and laughing with each other. He felt like everyone was staring at the parasite-filled padawan from Dantooine, though he knew logically that it wasn’t the case.

“You feeling all right? You know that you don’t have to stay with me and Qui if you don’t want to? You’ll have some time to get a sense of what you want to do- I don’t want you to rush it,” Master Skywalker said as they walked.

When Obi-Wan didn’t respond in a second, he continued on. “When I was a Padawan, I felt like an idiot half the time, especially in philosophy classes. Even though I grew up here, it still felt overwhelming sometimes. You’ll be fine,” Master Skywalker encouraged. Obi-Wan flushed, ears turning hot. He must have been projecting his feelings too much. He tightened his shields.

“I could be an idiot all of the time,” Obi-Wan said, grimacing.

Master Skywalker laughed. “Somehow I doubt it. Your Master found me on Tatooine when I was a baby, did you know? He’s pretty wise. I was sad when he retired to Dantooine.”

“You knew Master Telros?” Obi-Wan asked. He’d been gone a week, and he already missed the old man so much.

“Very well, Obi-Wan. He’s a good guy. He thinks pretty highly of you, you know? He wouldn’t have sent me just any old apprentice. Don’t worry,” Master Skywalker said, reaching over and squeezing his arm. “We’ll get you settled into classes and in the archives. This place’ll feel like home before you know it.”

“How many senior Padawan are there, Master Skywalker?” Obi-Wan asked, seeing so many beings close to his own age.

“I don’t know for sure. Hundreds at least?”

Obi-Wan sighed, feeling his shoulders droop. There were 10 senior Padawans at his home Temple and maybe fifty total Padawans. He shouldn’t have bragged to Qui-Gon about his abilities, but he hadn’t wanted to seem like the backwards idiot that he was. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be long before they would see for themselves. He felt overcome by a sense of hopelessness and despair.

“I bet this all seems like a lot, but it’ll all work out, you’ll see.”

They finally reached a long residential corridor and stopped outside a random door. Obi-Wan felt sick when he remembered his comments about celestial navigation. He wasn’t sure he could navigate to this doorway again, let alone navigate the stars. He rubbed at his face with his hands and wished the floor would swallow him whole.

Unfortunately, things deteriorated further. Whatever Obi-Wan had expected when Master Skywalker opened the door to their quarters, this wasn’t it. This was uncontrolled chaos. Several pairs of scuffed, water-stained, and stinky boots were in a state of disarray by the doorway. Every available surface was covered in one of several things- those being droid parts, plants, and mugs of a variety of unidentifiable liquids. Various robes and apparel were draped over a tiny sofa. The plants in mention were anything from tiny succulents to vast vines growing manically over the walls. The place smelt humid and verdant and not the cleanest.

In the center of this was Qui-Gon with a refuse bag, packing up some suspect bottles. His hair was half falling out of a messy bun, strands sticking to his face, sleeves pushed up demonstrating long, lanky forearms. He gave them a look that was something between a grimace and a smile. Overwhelmed and terminally exhausted, Obi-Wan felt the urge to plop down on the couch and sob uncontrollably. He did not have the energy or wherewithal to deal with whatever was going on here. Thankfully his Jedi training allowed him to maintain composure, and he stood frozen behind Master Skywalker.

“Sorry about the mess,” said Master Skywalker cheerfully. “I’d love to say that this is unusual but it’s not. I’ll get the cleaning droid working again.”

In the bright light of their chambers, Obi-Wan could see fading bruises around Master Skywalker’s left eye and cheekbone, extending somewhat down his neck. Lost in his own misery, he hadn’t noticed how stiffly the older Jedi had been moving.

“Master, you’re hurt again. I should have been there with you!” Qui-Gon admonished, as he tied up the refuse bag and sent it down a chute with a clang.

“You know as well as I do why you couldn’t go. You have to attend these mandatory seminars, Qui, or the Council won’t let you out on missions again. I better hear that things have been going well.”

“They have, Master. You know I never have trouble with my classes,” he said, walking over to Skywalker and poking at his bruised face with a gentle thumb.

“Yes, I do know. You’re brilliant padawan, but you can only get high marks when you actually go to class. The two of us will talk later. We’re probably scaring Obi-Wan.”

Qui-Gon rolled his eyes. “I almost didn’t see you back there. You better come in or Aura will eat you,” he said, pointing at a vicious looking palm tree with strange curling fronds that was sitting in the corner of the entry way. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if he was serious. After today, he’d believe in just about anything, including man-eating plants.

“You hungry?” Master Skywalker asked, walking over to the kitchenette and rifling around through the cupboards. “Ugh, there’s nothing here but tea. I thought you were going to pick up a few things?” he asked Qui-Gon. “I have no idea how you ever got so tall.”

Qui shrugged. “It was the will of the Force.”

“Guess so. It definitely wasn’t my cooking,” Master Skywalker said, chewing on a dusty ration bar he’d found. “Sorry Obi-Wan- we can go the refectory if you want?”

“I just would like to sleep,” Obi-Wan mumbled, craving just a few moments of quiet. The thought of laying down in the dark and not having to deal with any more of this for just a few minutes sounded superb.

“Ok, no problem,” Skywalker said, walking over to another door and opening it. “You’re going to have to share with this one, but he was supposed to get you a cot,” he muttered, peering into the room. “There’s no cot.”

Qui flushed and wrapped his arms tightly around himself. “I forgot.”

Obi-Wan looked into the room, which was even more chaotic than he thought possible. There were more plants, more mugs, and more robes strewn about. There was one long twin bed, bedding bunched in twisted knots, and a massive terrarium in the back that housed some oddly shaped, prickly desert plants. Obi-Wan heard a strange noise, which sounded oddly like mewling, coming from the area under the bed.

Master Skywalker turned red, then pale, fists balled up at his side. Obi-Wan was pretty sure his old Master would have expired by now, if placed in the same situation. “I see. What in all the nine Sith hells do you have in there?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Qui-Gon murmured, eyes wide and innocent.

“What kind of creature is it?” Master Skywalker yelled.

Qui-Gon slipped past him and pulled a box out from under the bed, and picked up a tiny, squeaking thing, cradling it gently in his large hands. It was a tooka kit. “Her mother was killed by a trash droid. It wasn’t her fault.”

“Padawan, you have to let it go. You know we can’t keep it.” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure this day could get any stranger but seeing the incredibly tall Qui cradling the little creature was just a tiny bit endearing.

“Just until she doesn’t need a bottle. She’s helpless,” Qui said firmly, eyes blazing.

“You can’t keep doing this.”

“I know. I’ll figure something out for her, but I can’t just put her out.”

“Fine,” said Master Skywalker, who also looked bruised and incredibly tired as he rubbed his temples, likely trying to ward of a massive headache. “Where is Obi-Wan going to sleep?”

“He could share with me,” Qui-Gon said, raising a brow, navy eyes flashing. Obi-Wan’s old Master would have had a stroke by now. That tiny bed could barely fit one Qui-Gon Jinn and definitely would not fit him and another person.

“Take your kit and go to bed, Qui, before I say something I regret. Come on Obi-Wan,” Master Skywalker beckoned towards him, face looking lined and defeated. He looked down at the couch, which was small and covered in questionable stains.

“I could just sleep on the floor?”

“You are not sleeping on the floor. Kriff, Obi-Wan, I’m sorry. This has been a disaster,” Master Skywalker muttered, still palming his face in his hand. “Come on. I’ll find you somewhere else to stay for the night. We’ll figure things out tomorrow. It’s a pretty free day- so you can sleep in.”

Obi-Wan followed Master Skywalker back out into the hall and they took a lift up a few floors and walked for what seemed like another eternity. Master Skywalker finally turned towards another door and rang a buzzer.

“Master? To what do I owe the pleasure of your company at this late hour?” asked a tall, stately man, dressed in the most formal pajamas Obi-Wan had ever seen. This man was thin with dark hair and eyes and a long, haughty face complete with well-manicured goatee. Despite his appearance and formal speech, Obi-Wan guessed that he was quite young, maybe just a few years older than himself.

“There have been some, um, complications and Obi-Wan needs a place to sleep tonight. You have the extra room, Yan. Can you please help?”

“Would the complications happened to be named Qui-Gon Jinn?” Yan asked, raising a thin, dark brow. Master Skywalker just shook his head. He looked grey with fatigue.

“Of course I can be of assistance. Yan Dooku, at your service,” the new man said with a bow.

“Thank you for your kindness, sir. Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“You are my former Master’s new Padawan, I take it? I welcome you to our Temple. Please, come in,” Yan said with a gracious wave of his arm. His own quarters were spotless, with a few pieces of well-placed art.

“Get some rest, Master. You look quite fatigued. You needn’t worry about Obi-Wan; I’ll take care of him.”

“Thank you, Yan,” Master Skywalker said, with a grateful sigh. “I’ll come by in the morning.”

“Of course,” he said, with a dismissive nod.

“Come Obi-Wan, I’ll fetch some clean bedding.” Yan began digging some lines out of an elegant, wooden chest, leading Obi-Wan to an unoccupied bedroom. “Though he may seem scattered, Master Skywalker is one of the finest Jedi and he’s a good, kind man.”

“I can see that.” Obi-Wan had seen and felt it, even in the short time he’d been with Master Skywalker.

“Would you like something to read? I find it helps calm my mind.”

“I would, thank you.” Obi-Wan replied. Yan handed him a real, old-fashioned book made of flimsi, bound in leather.

“The philosophies of Norn Galatia? They’re quite interesting, if a little dense and stuffy.” Obi-Wan said without thinking, again regretting his words. He hoped he hadn’t offended the man, but Yan smiled. “Indeed. I thought the tedium would help you rest. You’ve read Galatia?”

“All ten volumes. We may not have much on Dantooine, but our archives are extensive.”

“Ah, I’m quite jealous. We’ll have to talk more on it later. I can see the two of us will get on quite well,” Yan said with a little bow, leaving Obi-Wan to his rest. It had been a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> I'd love to hear what you think :D
> 
> Thanks to my dear friend picavenger 14 for helping me with this C:


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